Sweet Child O' Mine
by Ignatius J. Reilly
Summary: Hanson goes undercover at Wilcox High to investigate a sudden drug outbreak. When he meets pretty junior Brooke Lawson, he finds out that she is more involved than he first expected- and he soon gets more involved than he ever should have. TomxOC.
1. Where Do We Go

**Sweet Child O' Mine**

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

_**Rated: T (Subject to change... let me know if I should move this up. Right now it's for language and implied sexual content b/t an adult and a minor. Although the subject matter may be serious, I think on the whole the story will be pretty light and non-explicit. :) Again, I will up the rating if necessary.)**_

_**Takes place between Seasons 1 and 2.**_

_**R&R and enjoy!**_

**Chapter 1: Where Do We Go**

_Beep-beep-beep_. _Beep-beep-beep_.

Officer Tom Hanson, eyes still closed, reached out a tan arm to forcibly silence the nearby alarm clock. He buried his face in the pillow and let out a loud groan.

"Good morning, Tommy." A quiet, distinctly feminine voice rasped.

The cop stiffened and looked up to meet a pair of dark blue eyes beside him. Very familiar dark blue eyes…

"Oh my God…" Tom leapt backwards towards the edge of the bed in shock. He gripped the sides of his head and whispered frantically to himself. "Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ Hanson, way to go, you idiot."

Brooke Lawson, the blonde, underage junior from Wilcox High School, was in bed with him, an adult police officer. Unclothed.

_Fuck._

The girl's small hands caressed his shoulders. "Tom, what's wrong? You okay?" Pressing her torso against his back, she rubbed her hands on his sides and whispered in his ear. "Do you need something to make you feel better?" Her sweet face blushed pink as she said this, and it felt warm on his hunched figure.

Tom leaned away, still not looking at her.

Brooke's eyebrows furrowed, and she crawled over to his side and pried his hands away. "Talk to me, Tommy. Is it me…? I mean, was I…?" She trailed off, embarrassed.

Hanson sighed. "It's not you, Brooke, I…" He glanced at her pretty face and felt a wave of self-disgust wash over him. "Last night was just a mistake. I was irresponsible, I wasn't thinking, I shouldn't have… I mean, my God, you're just a kid." He ran his hands fitfully through his thick brown hair.

Brooke stiffened at his words. "Oh. I see." Her voice was like ice. "A lowly junior isn't good enough for an older, more experienced senior like yourself. I get it." She drew away from him, leaving Tom feeling strangely cold.

As the girl stood to grab her clothes, Hanson gripped her arm. "Look, Brooke, that's not exactly what I meant. I mean, you were, uh, you were great last night, it's nothing like that. I…" He let out an exasperated breath, running a hand through his hair again. "I haven't been exactly honest with you, Brooke. I'm… I 'm an undercover police officer. My job is to go undercover as a teenager in high school to conduct investigations."

Brooke's eyes widened in shock. She stared at Hanson for many moments before shaking her head. "That's not possible," she murmured. "How could you… is that even…" She glanced up at the cop warily. "How old are you really, then? Is Tom even your real name?"

He half-smiled, although his dark, expressive eyes remained worried. "I'm 23 years old. And yeah, my real name's Tom. Tom Hanson."

Brooke chewed this around a little. A few little things about the boy she thought she knew made a little bit more sense now. She surveyed his youthful face for a few more moments before sticking out her hand. "Well," she grinned slightly. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Officer Hanson."

**6 days earlier…**

"Brooke Lawson! Get over here now!" Wilcox High senior Jason Carmichael growled, sprinting after the hysterically laughing blonde. "This isn't funny!"

"Catch me if you can, Carmichael!" Brooke giggled as she raced down the hallway, the boy's brown paper lunch bag clenched in her left fist. But, as fast as she was, Jason's legs were much longer and he caught up quickly, catching her around the middle and holding her up in the air. The much shorter girl shrieked, tucking the bag underneath her arms. But Jason had had enough of her persistent teasing and he snatched the bag out of her hands, dropping her on her ass and quickly checking inside to make sure nothing was damaged.

Brooke slowly stood up and dusted off her jeans irritably. "Jason, what the hell, I was just having a little-"

The black-haired boy glared at her. "You _know _I don't like anyone touching my stuff, Brooke. You should know better than anybody as _my_ girlfriend."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know, I was just having a little fun. You know, fun? That thing we used to have all the time? Smiling, laughing, all that?"

Jason tucked the bag into his jacket. "Alright," he sighed. "I'm sorry for overreacting. Still love me?" An adorable little half-smile graced his perfectly symmetrical face.

Brooke's features softened. "Of course I do." She reached upward and pressed her full lips to his just as the bell rang. She smiled and then broke away, leaving him momentarily stunned. His periwinkle eyes snapped open. "Hey!"

She didn't turn around as she ran down the hallway. "See you at the game tonight- good luck!"

Meanwhile, a lean, brown-haired, chocolate-eyed boy walked through the school doors, backpack over one shoulder, leather jacket slung over the other. A white slip of paper was in his free hand. "Thomas Christopher Hatcher, expelled from Amherst High for possession of marijuana, record of fighting and talking back to teachers. Geez, what else is new?" he muttered sarcastically. "Investigating a massive drug outbreak in the student population, mostly marijuana. Students under suspicion of dealing include Gregory Shields, Trace Millbrook, yada, yada, yada…" He turned the corner and continued scanning the paper, making sure he had everything down pat-

"OOF!" A fast-moving body ran smack into him and landed hard on the ground.

"Oh my God, I'm sor- I mean, watch where you're going, Blondie."

The small, curvy teenager at his feet glared up at him. "Thanks a lot, genius. I really needed that bruised tailbone." She slowly stood and clutched the side of her head. "And the headache," she groaned.

Tom hesitated for a moment, and decided that being a gentleman wasn't exactly contradicting his profile… "Look, I'm sorry, I should have been watching where I was going. Are you okay?"

The girl's pretty oval-shaped face appeared confused for a split second, and then she composed herself. "I'm perfectly fine, thanks." She tried to take a few dignified steps forward, but ended up dizzy and nearly falling flat on her face. Tom reached out and steadied her. "You don't look fine. Come on, I'll take you to the nurse, I've got to head to the office anyways."

The girl shot a glare in his direction. "I don't need your help, okay, genius?"

Tom sighed. "At least sit down for a few seconds. I don't want to you to pass out or something."

She hesitated, then nodded and carefully sat down and leaned against the lockers. He started to say good-bye, but Brooke beat him to the punch. "Could you stay with me a bit? If it's not too much trouble?"

Tom faltered for a few seconds, but nodded and dropped his bag. He slid down the wall and stretched his legs out beside her. There was a moment of silence.

"My name's Brooke. Lawson."

He glanced over at her out of the corner of his eyes. She was facing forward, one hand on her forehead. She turned her face, which Tom noticed was quite beautiful, to look straight into his eyes with her azure ones.

He cleared his throat and gazed away from the teenager next to him. "I'm Tom Hatcher. I just transferred from Amherst."

She smiled as she surveyed his form. He was pretty damn attractive- angled cheekbones, deep chocolate brown eyes. Judging from how he was dressed, and the Sid Vicious haircut, he was most definitely the rough-around-the-edges, rock-worshipping, rebel type of guy. Pretty much the polar opposite of Jason, who obeyed all the rules for fear of being kicked off the baseball team. And of his dad. Jesus Christ, Mr. Carmichael was a pain in the ass. He actually had the gall to order Jason to break up with her just because he got a B in Physics! Brooke shook her head and focused on the boy sitting beside her.

"Why'd you transfer?"

He chuckled. "Uh, well, actually, I got thrown out."

She cocked her head. "What for? Drinking, fighting? Drugs?"

Tom revealed a perfected nonchalant smirk. "Pretty much all of the above. Speaking of which, you know where I can score some good pot around here?"

Brooke smiled, still gazing rather intently at his good-looking face. "I don't know about that, but if you want some Girl Scout cookies I have a little sister desperate for the grand prize." She paused. "Anyways, you don't look too much like a pothead to me."

Another brief silence. "So, uh, what kind of car do you drive?"

He looked sideways at her. "Why so many questions? This an interrogation or something?" _Ha ha ha_.

The blonde flushed. "No. You just seem… interesting is all. You seem a lot… more mature than most of the guys here. I don't know what it is." She shook her head and laughed. "You probably think I'm a total freak."

Tom had stiffened at her words. _Keep cool, Hanson. She doesn't suspect anything… you haven't given her a reason to. Just stick to protocol. _"Uh-huh. Well, I think I probably should at least move towards the office. Get checked in and all that. I'll, uh, see you around, okay?" He lazily stood, grabbed his bag, and began to stroll down the corridor.

"Wait!"

He stopped and whirled around. "What?" he practically growled.

The pretty young girl had risen to her feet and walked over to where he stood. "Listen, there's a baseball game tonight, versus Amherst, and I thought that it being your old school and all you'd like to go…"

Tom snorted. "Do I look like the baseball type? Besides, I'm busy tonight anyways."

"My boyfriend, Jason Carmichael, is starting, he's the pitcher, and I thought you could keep me company while he's-"

"Not interested, sorry." He gave her a faux-apologetic smile. "I'll see you around, alright?"

"Yeah," the girl murmured dejectedly. "See you."

***

As he walked away from Brooke, Hanson took out the slip of paper he was studying earlier. Students under suspicion… Gregory Shields, Trace Millbrook, Lawrence Stevenson, Gabriella Perez, Dustin Weir, Stacey Marsh, Brooke Lawson…

Brooke Lawson. Young, clumsy, beautiful Brooke Lawson. Tom crumpled the paper in his hand. _Shit_.

***

_**Alright, people, first 21 Jump Street story! I hope Hanson isn't too out of character; I tried to compensate for putting him in a situation that he'd probably never get into in the first place. :) Anyways, I'll have another chapter up as soon as possible. Please review (politely) and tell me what you think!!!! Thanks, love you guys!**_

_**Aimer et la guerre**_


	2. An Ounce of Pain

**Sweet Child O' Mine**

_**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Goes for all chapters.**_

**Chapter 2: An Ounce of Pain**

"Hanson? HANSON?"

The young officer looked up from his desk. "Yeah, coach?"

Fuller held out his hand expectantly. "Your report, please?"

Tom paused before thumbing through a manila folder and reluctantly handing over a piece of paper. Fuller examined it quickly before looking back at the seated cop. "So basically, you have nothing so far?"

Hanson shrugged. "Today was my first day. All the kids I talked to were pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing- I didn't even hear a whisper. I found a couple of the kids on the list… does the department really think there's only one kid dealing at this school?"

Captain Fuller nodded. "There's only one type of marijuana being mass-distributed like this. It's either a group of kids working from the same supplier or just one who's very good at staying incognito. Find the dealer, and then find the supplier. I want this solved quickly, Hanson."

Tom sighed. "Yes, coach."

The older man turned to walk away, but Hanson quickly got out of his chair. "Captain?"

"Yes?"

Tom bit his lip. "Listen, I'm pretty sure a bunch of the kids on the list will be at the baseball game tonight."

Fuller shook his head in assent. "Go to the game, check it out. Be sure to report anything you see or hear, okay?"

"Got it, coach."

***

Tom drove up to the school in his father's Mustang, parking away from all the crowds. As he opened the door and climbed out, a faded, white Karmann Ghia pulled up next to him, nearly running him down.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, stepping backwards. "Watch it, buddy!"

Within seconds a head of long, golden hair stepped out of the vehicle. She turned to face him and smiled cockily. "A '68 Mustang? And it's a fastback. Nice."

Hanson glowered at her. "Thanks for nearly running me over, by the way. My life plans do not include being flattened by Volkswagens."

Brooke laughed airily. "Oh come on, Tommy, I wouldn't _flatten_ you. I'd simply rough you up a little. Maybe even give a neat little scar to show off to your friends. I know that getting hit by my mom's car won't sound too interesting, but I'm sure that you can exaggerate a little bit and tell them it was something much more macho. Like a tank."

He glared at the suddenly talkative teenager. "You're a lot more annoying after school."

She giggled. "Just a little less stressed. And a little more forgiving. Come on, the game's starting right now."

Tom surveyed her relaxed face- _Pot, maybe?- _before locking his car and walking towards the field. Brooke followed and swiftly caught up with him. "I knew you'd come, by the way."

"How's that?"

She smiled and wrapped her arm around his. "I think you know why. You're curious about me."

"I'm not really _curious_ about girls with boyfriends."

Brooke's amused expression faded, but she recovered quickly, her tone teasing. "Oh come on. You're the spitting _image_ of the 'bad boy' type. Unless… unless that's all it is? An _image_? I didn't-"

Before she could get out another word, Hanson had pushed her against the nearest car. He used his body weight to pin her down on the hood and moved his lips close to her ear. "Listen, _Brooke_, I'm not interested in you unless you can hook me up with some weed, okay? If you can't do that, then we have nothing more to say to each other." Tom let go of the stunned girl, leaving her lying on top of the car. He quickly strode away, hands deep in his pockets. _You lost control, Hanson. Too rough. Poor girl's probably traumatized_… _you've gotta keep your goddamn emotions in check…_

When he finally looked backwards to make sure she was okay, she was already gone.

_**The next day…**_

"Hey, uh, could you hook me up? My dealer's kinda out of business."

"Hey, do you know where I can score some pot, by any chance? I've got the cash…"

Hanson felt like a broken record. After engaging a teen in conversation, kids will talk about their cars and music for ages, he would ask where he could get some marijuana. He'd asked at the game the night before, no one gave up anything. Same thing this morning. At lunch. After lunch. Still nothing. Right before last period, he exasperatedly slammed open his locker and shoved his books in.

"Hey, you're in my Calc class. Tim, right?" A thin, Hispanic girl questioned, sidling up to Tom as he pushed his locker shut.

"Tom, actually."

"Yeah, whatever," she glanced up and down at him before smiling widely. "You new here?"

"Yeah. Just transferred from Amherst. Listen, uh… what's your name?"

She smiled. "Gabriella Perez."

_On the list_. Tom turned to face the girl. "Gabriella. Uh, listen, I'm new here, so I don't know all that many people. Would you mind introducing me to somebody?"

Gabriella grimaced. "Like who?"

He leaned in close, and she mimicked him. "Like, someone who knows where all the good weed is around here, you dig?"

Gabriella grinned. "Oh, so that's what you're getting at. Okay, well, I don't deal personally… but for you… I'm sure I can find someone to hook you up."

Tom's smile grew. "Sweet. He around here somewhere?"

She gazed out into the crowded corridor and smirked. "Actually, I'll introduce you to someone even better, Tommy. Hey, Brooke!"

The much shorter girl glanced up at her name. Her smile was luminous as she sauntered over to them. "Hey, Gabby, what's up?" Tom repressed a wince. _Christ, why_ her_?_

Gabriella tilted her head towards Hanson. "This is Tom. He's lookin' to score… think you can help him out?"

Brooke's expression immediately turned angry. She glanced at Tom before speaking to the other girl in a cold voice. "Gabriella, can I talk to you real quick?"

"Sure- we'll be right back, Tom." Brooke dragged the taller girl away a few feet. Hanson turned to the side and tried to listen in as much as he could.

"He's not here… what did I say about-"

"I know-"

"After he almost…"

"I'm sorry, Brooke."

After a few minutes, they came back. Hanson tried to appear nonchalant.

Brooke had a fake smile plastered on her pretty face. "Listen, Tom, right? If you wanna drop by my house after school, I'm sure I can help you out." She waved. "Bye, guys."

Gabriella shrugged. "Sorry about her. She's a little weird these days."

He found himself staring at Brooke's retreating back. _Snap out of it!_ "Uh, yeah, I noticed… I'll, uh, catch you later, then?"

She nodded, winking flirtatiously. "Bye, Tom."

Hanson caught himself rolling his eyes. _Teenage girls. They're all the same. _He glanced down the hallway at Brooke's small figure. _Not _her_, though. _He ran a hand through his thick hair. _There's no way she's a pot dealer… no way. She's too… Snap out of it, Hanson! You've seen smart kids steal, cops that molest their daughters… what makes her so different from all the other punk kids running around this place? Go over to the house, bust her, put her behind bars. Case closed. _Those two words didn't sound nearly as good as they usually did.

***

The end of the day came much quicker than Hanson thought it would. Although the cop probably should have let the Captain know where he was going after school let out, he decided to ignore that rule for today. Besides, that little girl couldn't possibly incapacitate a full-grown man, much less an armed police officer.

Hanson pulled up in front of Wilcox, spotting Brooke walking out the front doors alongside a tall dark-haired boy. They seemed awfully fond of each other. When Brooke finally looked up and saw the blue Mustang sitting out front, she picked up the pace and cut across the grass to the other side of the parking lot. Hanson sped over to where she and her boyfriend were heading and cut them off.

"Hey, Brooke," he grinned at her uncomfortable expression. "Need a lift?"

The black-haired boy's red-rimmed eyes narrowed. "And who are you?"

Brooke placed a delicate hand on his chest. "Relax, Jason. He's just a friend."

Hanson stuck his head out the window. "Pleased to meet you. The name's Tom Hatcher."

Jason nodded curtly. "Jason Carmichael."

The blonde girl between them faced Hanson. "Look, Tom, I'll see you later, okay? Jason's just walking me home."

"It's no trouble, really. Besides, we're going to the same place, aren't we?"

Brooke's boyfriend moved towards Hanson. She gripped his shirt. "Tom's, uh, mowing the lawn for us this afternoon. My mom hired him, you know how she is, the one thing she insists on hiring someone for is mowing the lawn."

Tom smiled widely at the black-haired boy whose expression was livid. "So, Brooke, about that ride?"

She glanced over at her boyfriend. "I'm sorry Jason." She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tonight, alright?"

His expression softened and he sighed. "Alright. Love you."

"Love you too." She climbed into the passenger side, but not before Jason spun her back around and gave her a passionate, lengthy kiss. Hanson looked at everything else but the two of them. _You have absolutely no reason to feel jealous, Hanson. Besides, you're about to bust her anyways. _Un_-emotional, remember? _He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck as he waited for the teens to finish.

Finally, Brooke slammed the door shut, and Tom wordlessly turned the car out into the street.

Jason Carmichael stood on the sidewalk, watching them leave, hands clenched so tightly the knuckles were white.

***

_**Alright, that was chapter 2! I hope this story isn't too far off track as far as 21 Jump Street storylines go, lol. **_

_**Anyways, please remember to review!! School's about to start, so chapters may be a bit longer in between, but reviews will keep me motivated to update! :) And I'd really like to hear from people reading this.**_

_**Thanks, love you guys- and remember, PLEASE REVIEW! :)**_

_**Aimer et la guerre**_


	3. If They Thought of Rain

**Sweet Child O' Mine**

**_Disclaimer: Not mine._**

**Chapter 3: If They Thought of Rain**

Hanson drummed his fingers on the wheel of his Mustang as they waited at a red light. He glanced over at the silent teenager sitting beside him.

"So, um, which way to your house?"

She didn't look at him. "Go straight, take a left on Kelso, a right on Hillsfield, and… and then another left on Bradshaw. It's on the left, a few blocks down."

"Alright."

Both were quiet again.

"Why don't you have your car?"

Brooke shrugged. "It's not my car. It's my mom's, she said she needed it today."

"Oh."

Silence.

"Look, Brooke, I…" he trailed off.

She gazed up at the cop, her azure eyes hard. "What is it, Hatcher?"

Tom ran a hand through thick brown hair. "I'm sorry about yesterday, okay? I was a little-"

"Forceful? ...Abusive? Violent?"

"Harsh, was what I was going to say."

She laughed. "I'd thought potheads were supposed to be laid-back. I guess not when they're looking for a deal, right?"

Tom chose to ignore this. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Brooke twisted and stared at him for a few long moments. Then she slouched back in her seat. "The light's green."

Hanson glanced up at the light and accelerated. Brooke smiled, looking out the window. "And I forgive you," she said quietly.

***

Hanson found himself driving through one of the lower class neighborhoods in town, one with houses that appeared to be falling apart or in foreclosure. He couldn't imagine such a polished and well, _glowing_ girl like Brooke growing up here. Even his first apartment was preferable to this place.

Brooke eventually told him to pull in at a faded, slightly slanted, grey house that stood amidst an un-kept yard. She left her eyes towards the ground as she stepped out of the car and trudged up to the door. Hanson quickly got out and followed her into the house. A dim, decidedly brown room met his eyes. Cigarette smoke and the musky smell of aged furniture engulfed the room and made his head swim. Hanson was completely thrown for a loop. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't what he was seeing.

When Brooke gazed back at him, her mouth was set in a thin line. Her sorrowful eyes were painful to look at.

"Brooke? That you?"

The blonde's head turned. "Coming, Mama." She gestured for Tom to wait, and she stepped into another room. "Hey, Mama."

A raspy voice drifted above the faint sounds of a TV sitcom. "Didya get some more Kools for me?"

"Not yet. In a little while, okay?"

"There's only one left- take the keys, be a good girl-"

"Mama, did you even head into work today?"

There was a pause.

"Mama?"

"No…"

Brooke's tone was exasperated. "Mama, you _have_ to go, you know I can only work on the weekends! You need to think of Robbie, what she needs…"

"I know! I just, I wasn't… feeling good."

"You're _never_ feeling good."

Mrs. Lawson's rough voice rose a few octaves. "Don't you _dare_ talk to your mother like that! I gave birth to you, I raised you, I don't owe you kids anything!"

Hanson was feeling worse and worse with every word he heard.

"Mama…" Another pause.

Eventually Brooke sighed and walked back out. "Come on," she muttered to Tom, who wordlessly followed her into the hallway. He glanced inside the living room to see an older blond woman in a dressing gown sitting in an armchair. A cigarette hung from between her thin fingers and the flashing blue-white lighting from the TV illuminated her gaunt face. She looked up with hollowed, dull green eyes right into Hanson's.

"Who's that?" Mrs. Lawson questioned coarsely. "Another _boy_friend? Or are you so concerned about the money you're taking _clients_ now?"

Hanson's eyebrows furrowed and he moved towards her. "Mrs. Lawson-"

Brooke grabbed his sleeve and pulled. "Just leave it. Please, Tom." He slowly nodded and let her lead him into a small bedroom down the short, dark hallway.

This space was the cleanest of the house. A few rock posters hung here and there, a dresser with some pictures and jewelry strewn over the top. A bed with red sheets lay in the middle of the room.

"It's a little messy," Brooke said awkwardly, turning around to face Hanson, wringing her hands nervously. "Sorry."

He shrugged. "It's okay. Cleaner than my room."

She smiled, although it didn't reach her eyes. "So, uh, now you know more about me than anyone else. Even Jason."

"What?"

"Jason's never been over here. Not that he hasn't asked, but I always keep him occupied." She laughed flatly and sat down on the bed. "For obvious reasons. He'd be embarrassed beyond belief. His parents are both _doctors_, for Christ's sake. My dad's gone, and my mom is a lazy bitch who refuses to leave the house."

Hanson took a seat next to her. "It's okay, Brooke. Really. You don't have to explain anything. You don't owe me anything." His guilt was increasing by the second. Could he bring himself to bust this kid, _this _time?

The teenager looked at him, her eyes shining with tears. "But I _want _to tell you. I don't know what it is. I feel like I can trust you, even though you've given me no reason to." She laughed; her voice was shaking. "I don't even know you. And I trust you. I don't know what the hell I'm thinking. You probably don't want to hear anything. After all, all you care about is smoking weed, right?"

Tom hesitated. _Non-emotional. NON-emotional. _"No. That's not all I care about." _Idiot. Are you a masochist now too?_

Brooke's face softened ever so slightly. "What else do you care about, then?"

He paused for a second. "Oh, well, _acquiring_ the weed is half the fun…"

She slapped his arm. "Tom!"

He shrank back and laughed, temporarily dispelling the serious atmosphere. "God, I don't know. My car. My friends. My family."

"Your girlfriend?"

Tom hesitated. _Another easy way out_. "We, uh, broke up when I transferred." _You are _really _an idiot._

"Oh," Brooke's lips curved upwards a little. "I'm sorry." She said this with an expression on her face that was anything but sorry.

He shrugged. "It's over now. Uh... sorry to interrupt our little chat, but speaking of weed…"

Brooke stiffened. "Right. Hold on." She stood up and went over to her dresser. She pulled out the top door and reached inside, fumbling with something before producing a single plastic bag.

Hanson's spirits sank. _Oh, God, why, Brooke?_

She turned and went back to the bed. "Here it is. You wanna smell?"

He shrugged. His tone was flat. "Naw, I trust you. How much?"

The blonde paused, then smiled. "For you, free."

Tom's eyes widened. "No, no, really, Brooke, I-"

She laughed airily. "Really, Hatcher, take it. Honestly, it's not even mine to sell."

His head snapped up. "Whose is it, then?"

Brooke hesitated.

"Come on, you can tell me."

"Uh… well, okay. I trust you, Tom." She took a deep breath and surveyed his expression before continuing. "It's Jason's stuff. I'm just holding it for him. He actually would be really pissed if he found out I was giving this to you… don't say anything, okay? I already made Gabby swear she wouldn't."

Hanson perused her face, looking for any signs that she was lying. She didn't seem to be… "Why would you risk your high school diploma for a _guy_?"

She sat back down. "I care about him. He's, he's a good guy, really. His dad is a real hard-ass, and constantly pushes him to be perfect… he just needs to chill out once in a while, you know? Breathe. He doesn't sell on school premises, he waits till after school… that's how he could afford his BMW. Mr. Carmichael doesn't give his son anything unless he earns it. That includes love." Brooke was far away now, distant. "Sometimes, when I'm feeling rotten about my life, I just think about Jason, and I know it's horrible, but I feel better. At least my parents aren't constantly on my back about everything. Everyone needs a little space, you know?"

Tom sat back. "Yeah, I guess."

For a few moments, there was silence.

"So," Brooke stood and handed Hanson the bag. "Here. Take it. Happy early birthday."

"Oh, no, no, no, let me pay for this." _Could I even bust her now?... You have to, Hanson! It's your job! She deals, you arrest her. Simple as that…_

"Okay, fine." Brooke faltered for a moment, and then a sly smile crept unto her face. "You can pay me back if you want."

Tom bit the inside of his cheek and reached for his wallet. "How much?"

She sat down next to him. She leaned close, that confident smile still lighting up her features. "One kiss."

He practically jumped a few feet away. "What?" He sputtered in shock.

Brooke didn't waver. "One kiss. That's my price."

He shook his head. "Brooke, I am perfectly willing to offer you cash. Besides, don't you have a boyfriend? One that you _love_?"

Her smile faded. "I don't _want_ cash. Really. And Jason… well, I care about Jason, I'd do anything for him, but he's… well, there's no c_hemistry_, if you know what I mean. Besides, I never said that I _love_ him. I don't think I do, quite honestly. He's a very sweet guy, when he wants to be, but, I don't know… There's nothing really deep, you know? Nothing passionate, nothing _physical_."

Hanson hastily cleared his throat. "Brooke, I'm flattered, really, but I can't. You have a boyfriend, and I'm still, er, getting over my break up, and I-"

Brooke quickly leaned forward and pressed her full lips to his, parting them slightly. He froze, but she twined her fingers in his hair and moved till she was pressed against him. Tom's mind had yet to catch up with his body as he placed his hands on her waist and opened his mouth instinctually. She pushed herself closer to him and then backwards onto the bed. Before Tom realized what was happening, her hands had moved upwards under his shirt and her knees were straddling his thighs. He tore his lips from hers.

"Brooke." He gasped. "Please, let's stop, okay?"

She slowly moved away from his face. "What's wrong?"

Tom abruptly sat up, causing Brooke to tumble onto the bed. He ran a distressed hand through his hair. _You are most definitely an idiot, Hanson. You go to the girl's house to bust her, and you end up making out. Some cop._

"I can't do this."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Why not?"

"I- I just can't, okay? It's not right."

Her big blue eyes appeared confused, then hurt. "What do you mean? Don't you like me?"

_Yes. Too much. _"Uh… I don't know, listen, this just isn't a good idea, alright?" He hurriedly stood. "I need to go. I'll, uh, I'll see you around, okay?"

Brooke bit her lip and then sighed. Her voice was emotionless. "Fine. Don't forget your bag." She tossed it to him. "You can let yourself out, right?"

Hanson caught it and paused before nodding. "Bye, Brooke. See ya tomorrow, okay?"

She shook her head up and down listlessly before looking up and smiling insincerely. "Bye, Hatcher."

He half-smiled crookedly, then turned and walked out the door, shoving the bag into his jacket pocket. As he strode down the hallway, he heard quick footsteps from behind him. "Tom!"

He whirled around and a blonde head was there burying her face in the crook of his neck as she hugged him. "Thanks for listening," she whispered. "I appreciate it, really. Don't tell anyone, okay?"

The cop slowly nodded as she squeezed his lean frame and then let go. "Bye, Tommy."

He looked down at the pretty girl who had so easily waltzed in and shaken up everything he knew about being a police officer. He knew it wasn't easy to be a cop, especially an undercover one, but this little teenage girl had come in and made everything more difficult than he'd ever imagined. He swallowed and then his lips curled upwards in a smile tinged with an indiscernible emotion.

"Bye, Brooke."

***

_**Alrighty, folks, another chapter! And the end of the first week of school! *cheers* Anyways, thanks to those who reviewed, I really appreciate it, and as always, more are welcome! :)**_

_**I'll try to have one out once a week until the story's finished, but depending on my schedule that statement might be false. We'll see.**_

_**Anyways, love you guys! Review- thanks! :)**_

_**Aimer et le guerre**_


	4. Stared Too Long

**Sweet Child O' Mine**

_**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me!**_

**_R&R and enjoy!_**

**_***_**

**Chapter 4: Stared Too Long**

**_The next morning…_**

Doug Penhall and Tom Hanson sat on top of two adjacent desks at the Jump Street headquarters.

"So let me get this straight. You drove the girl to her house, with_out _letting Fuller know, didn't actually buy the pot, and didn't get any sufficient evidence…. Am I leaving anything out?"

Hanson rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "Well, uh-"

"'Well, uh' what? There's more?" Penhall's face was incredulous. "This just keeps getting better and better!"

"Doug, you got to promise me you'll keep this to yourself."

"That bad, huh?"

Tom nodded, a pained expression touching his youthful features. "Pretty much. While… while I was at the Lawson residence, after Brooke gave me the pot, she and I… kissed…"

"You _what_?"

"Is it as bad as I think it is? I mean, it wasn't- nothing else happened, I-"

Penhall laughed. "Hanson, calm down. It's not a big deal. You have no control over what a hormonal teenager decides to do with her lips. I would, uh, forget to mention that to Fuller if I was you, though." He paused for a second. "You at least came in last night and told Fuller everything else, right... Hanson?"

"I didn't actually have the chance to go by his office last night-"

Hanson's partner and best friend whirled around. Fuller had just walked through the Chapel doors. "Well, it looks like the Captain's here now." He gave Tom a shove. "Go on and give him your report. Now, missy, and I'd better not see you lollygagging."

Tom refrained from flipping Penhall off as he carefully approached Fuller. "Hey, coach."

The older police officer gazed at him sternly. "Good morning, Hanson. Any reason that you decided a phone call would suffice rather than checking in at my office last night, like I told you to?"

Hanson sheepishly ran a hand through his hair. "I know, I'm sorry, coach. It won't happen again."

Fuller assessed the younger man. "Alright. But next time, you obey orders to the letter, Hanson. Come with me."

Tom followed the captain into his office and shut the door.

"Your report, Hanson?"

Tom handed Fuller the folder. He took them and scanned the pages. "The weed you brought in was scanned- it is the kind that's making its way so quickly through the school. You say that Brooke Lawson is _not_ dealing?"

"No, sir. It doesn't appear that way. She mentioned her boyfriend, Jason Carmichael, is the one who purchased the marijuana, and I suspect that he's also the one selling."

The older police officer set down the report. "Okay. Stick close to this Jason Carmichael as well. Get him make a deal, then bust him."

Hanson bit his lip. "Uh, Coach, that might not work… Jason and I aren't exactly the best of friends... and this guy is really careful about selling, I doubt he'd bite for me."

Fuller nodded. "I'll send Penhall in, then. This Carmichael kid's on the baseball team, right?"

"Yeah, star pitcher."

He smiled. "I guess Penhall's going to have to brush up on his baseball then. You're free to go, Hanson."

Tom turned for the door, then hesitated. "Sir? Uh, do you still want me to stick around at Wilcox and nose around a bit? Make sure I'm right about Carmichael?"

Fuller looked up and shook his head in assent. "Yes. Stay put at Wilcox for now, keep sniffing around. Maybe there's more than one kid dealing. And Hanson?"

"Yes, Coach?"

"Keep an eye on Brooke Lawson. Just in case we're wrong."

Hanson sighed before he stepped outside and closed the door. "Will do, Captain."

***

"Hey, Tom!"

Her melodic voice called his name in the middle of the hallway. He didn't stop walking.

"Tom, wait!" Brooke Lawson sprinted and grabbed his shoulder. "Can I talk to you?"

He stopped suddenly and turned to face her. He was careful to keep his tone level. "What is it?"

Brooke pulled him over by the lockers and lowered her voice. "Tom, listen. I thought you should know. I broke up with Jason last night."

Hanson was speechless. All he could say was a pathetic "Why?"

She smiled crookedly. "I thought about what you said, about me risking my diploma for him, and I realized that you were right. If I want to do something like that, it should be for me, not him. He didn't even mean all that much to me anymore. I still _care_ about him, but I don't love him. Hopefully he sees that now."

The cop stared at her pretty features for a few moments then cleared his throat. "How, uh, how did he take the news?"

"He was… a little upset at first. After a while he seemed to accept it though. Actually, he was really calm when he dropped me off at Gabby's house. Which, by the way, he thought was mine." She looked at her feet. "I couldn't even muster up the courage to show him where I really live. I've known you for only three days now and I already feel like I can tell you anything."

Tom rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. "Yeah, I…"

She bit her lip, gazing up at him with wide azure eyes. "Listen… I'm not usually this forward… but that thing we did yesterday? On my bed?" Hanson gulped. She brushed her fingers down his arm, leaning closer. "Well, it was nice. And I was wondering if you would want to do it again sometime? Not right this second, obviously, but-"

_For the love of Christ.._. "Brooke, you're a very, uh, nice girl and all, but I don't think that we should… I mean, we should give it some time, we both just broke up with our boyfriends, I mean, my girlfriend, your boyfriend, and uh…

Brooke laughed. "That's a 'no', right? It's okay, Tom. You can just say 'no.' I won't break."

He ran a hand through his thick, brown hair. _I don't _want_ to say no, exactly. That's the problem. _He shook his head discontentedly.

"Anyways, Tom, I also wanted to tell you, there's going to be a party Friday night at Trace Millbrook's house. He's on the baseball team with Jason. Apparently there's always a lot of weed floating around at Trace's parties. You might want to come if you're looking for a buy." She smiled, revealing gleaming, white teeth. "If anyone asks, I've extended you a personal invitation. I'll be there, too."

A bell immediately went off in Hanson's head and his expression brightened. _Hopefully this will be an easy bust, and I can get the hell out of here, away from temptation in the form of short, blonde teenagers..._ "That sounds awesome, actually. Where is it?"

She grinned. "I knew you'd want to come. Here," She took his hand in her own smooth one and pulled a Post-It and a pen out of her purse with the other. She yanked the lid off with her teeth and pressed the slip of paper against a locker to write. "It's at Gramercy and Pine, big, two story brick house on the corner. Can't miss it." Removing the lid from her mouth, she pocketed the ballpoint and handed him the paper. She smiled brightly. "There's the address. See you there, alright? Around 9ish?"

"Sounds great, I-"

Before he could finish, Brooke suddenly leaned up and pressed her lips fiercely to his. She lingered for a few moments before letting go of him. "See ya later, Tom." She sauntered off swifty before he could reply.

Hanson stood there in shock for a few seconds before glancing down at the note in his hand.

"2578 Gramercy. Just bring some cash and that incredibly good-looking ass of yours. :) XOX, Brooke."

He subconciously leaned over to glance at his butt before stuffing the Post-It in his jacket pocket. He readjusted his grip on his backpack with his other hand and began walking to class. _This girl is going be the death of me, I swear._

***

"Doug Parker?" Coach Delmont glanced up at Penhall from the slip of paper. "Says here that you were the starting catcher on your old team. Played for Redding High in Chicago?"

"Yep, Coach. Number three."

"Uh-huh. Also says that you were 'dismissed' due to some substance abuse on school property. Listen, Parker, baseball at Wilcox is kind of an institution. Everyone looks up to the guys on the team. If you can prove that you're willing to work, I'll be willing to overlook your previous misstep. You may even get to start if you play your cards right. We got an understanding?"

Penhall nodded. "Yes, Coach."

"Good. Now go suit up. I want you catching for Carmichael for practice today. Let's see if you're as good as your papers say you are."

Penhall sighed heavily as he walked towards the fields. _Why does Fuller always have to ham up my papers_? _It's getting really freaking exhausting… at least it's baseball. Playing with Hartman* was pretty damn enjoyable, hopefully this Carmichael kid knows what he's doing._

As he put on the catcher's helmet, a gangly, red-haired boy walked up to him. "Hey," he held out his hand. "I'm Dustin Weir, shortstop."

"Doug Parker, soon-to-be catcher."

Dustin cocked his head. "You really think you're gonna beat Ovens for the starting spot?"

"Actually, yes."

The shorter teenager threw his head back and laughed. "I like you, man. Hey Larry, come here." A muscular, ebony-skinned boy looked up and strode over.

"Parker, this is our first baseman Larry Stevenson. Larry, Doug Parker, our soon-to-be catcher." He laughed again shortly.

"Please to meet you." Penhall stuck out his hand. Larry took it and assessed Penhall silently. "He seems like he'll do fine. You ever caught with Carmichael before?"

"Nope. Coach wants me to today, though."

"Good luck. If you can handle Carmichael, you'll be doing better than Ovens. Kid gets so confused sometimes it's like he's been hit over the head with a shovel." Larry said, and Dustin chuckled. "If you can keep up with his screwball, more power to you."

Penhall shrugged. "I'll sure try."

"PARKER! Get over here!"

"Yes, Coach!" He turned to the other boys. "I'll see you guys later, alright?"

"Hey, wait, Parker!" Dustin grabbed his arm. "Hey, um, our third baseman, Trace Millbrook, that's the brown-haired guy talking to Carmichael, he's throwing a party two days from now. Now that you're a member of the team, you wanna come?"

Penhall paused for a second, then nodded. "Sure, why not?"

The redhead grinned widely. "Cool. And listen, just in case you were wondering…" He leaned in close. "If you wanted to score some weed, I know for a fact that someone's gonna be dealing at the party."

Jackpot. Penhall smiled. "Sweet. I'm there."

"PARKER!"

"Gotta go. See you guys around." He languidly jogged over to home plate. Easy in, easy out.

***

_* reference to 1st season episode "Low and Away". Penhall went undercover as a high school baseball player (also a catcher) to keep an eye on the star player (also the pitcher... I know, I'm completely and utterly unoriginal lol)_

_**The story's moving right along! This was kind of a filler chap, introducing Penhall into the story, more of straight-laced Hanson's typical angst :)**_

_**Sorry I was a day or two late. Life gets in the way more often than not. Also, next weekend there might be problems because I'm going on vacation for Labor Day weekend. I apologize in advance :(**_

_**Anyways, I really appreciate all my readers, and especially my reviewers. You guys are amazing, thanks so much for the support!!**_

_**Love you guys! Keep reviewing please!**_

_**Aimer et la guerre**_


	5. Not a chapter I know, I suck

Hey,

Not an update- I know, I hate these too. But I'll keep it brief.

Basically, I want to apologize because my laptop had to get ghosted two weeks ago and I lost all of my documents, including upcoming chapters of _Sweet Child O' Mine_. It might take a week or two, as I only had a couple of chapters written in advance anyways, but I will update ASAP!

Thanks for sticking around- love you guys!!!!!

**Aimer et la guerre**


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